


Bicycle race

by Builder



Series: Powers/No Powers Choose-Your-Own-Adventure [34]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Bicycles, Depression, Fainting, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Sickfic, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-28
Updated: 2020-06-28
Packaged: 2021-03-04 12:20:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24969589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Builder/pseuds/Builder
Summary: They’re coasting down a gentle hill when Bucky begins to weave, going back and forth across the path, kicking up grit with the edges of his tires.“You ok?”  Steve calls, throwing out his legs from the pedals so he can stop his momentum at any time.  “Pull off, alright?”But Bucky doesn’t seem to hear him.  He continues to wobble down the stretch of path, seeming to lose more and more control of his ability to steer.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Series: Powers/No Powers Choose-Your-Own-Adventure [34]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/760377
Comments: 3
Kudos: 31





	Bicycle race

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on tumblr @builder051

Bucky’s been in bed for six days when he finally decides to roll out onto his feet. He sits at the kitchen table, staring at his laptop, and announces to Steve that they should take a bicycle tour of the Chesapeake and Ohio Canal.

“What?” Steve stares blankly at him. 

“We should go out and do something.” Bucky closes the computer and rises to his feet. “I’m gonna get dressed.”

Steve watches him disappear down the hall. He looks small. He’s lost weight, skipping meals and sleeping all the time. He dials up Laura while Bucky’s in the bedroom to ask her if she thinks this is a good idea. 

“It’s not like you’re going to ride the whole thing in a day,” Laura says. Steve can practically hear her shrugging. “Take him down to Great Falls, let him pedal around for a few hours if that’s what he wants to do. Be glad for the time together. You worry about him enough.”

“But, I mean, do you think he’s, like, strong enough?” Steve hates the way the words sound coming out of his mouth. “He hasn’t been out in...” Steve trails off. Weeks, at least. Maybe longer.

“You never know if you don’t try,” Laura says. “And don’t sell yourself short. You know how to take care of him.”

“Sure...”

Steve dresses quickly and loads their bikes onto the rack on the back of the car. “It’s a bit of a drive,” he warns, but Bucky just slumps into the passenger seat, and scowls down at the label on his water bottle.

They spend the drive in silence. Steve worries his music could be offensive, or worse, triggering, so he leaves the stereo untouched. Bucky looks to enjoy himself, though, looking up periodically to gaze out the window. 

Driving, Steve thinks. He likes driving. Ever on the lookout for something to raise Bucky’s spirits, he adds it to his admittedly very short mental list.

The parking lot at the National Park is crowded, as is the Welcome Center. “Still want to do this?” Steve asks, looking at the couples and families toting picnic baskets and bicycle helmets all around them.

Bucky looks around, giving everyone in his path a glare, and nods determinedly. “We came,” he mumbles. Then he turns to the rear of the car to begin disembarking their bikes.

“Ok.” Steve quickly takes his, spins the handlebars the right way ‘round, tests the pedals, and climbs on. Bucky follows suit, and after a couple of wobbles, they’re off down the nearest trail.

They ride for half an hour or so before Steve signals for them to pull off. Most of the crowd is gone, and they’ve passed only a few other cyclists. Steve pulls up the trail map he’d saved on his phone. 

“How far were you thinking you wanted to go?” he asks. 

“Uh... I don’t...” Bucky’s red-faced and reaching for his water.

“You ok? I don’t want you to overwork yourself.” Steve raises his eyebrows.

“Sure. ‘S just hot...”

It is muggy out. Steve nods, but gives Bucky another careful once-over. He’s not trembling per se, but he’s moving with the jerky slag of muscular tiredness. Steve knows it takes Bucky roughly twice the energy to balance on his bike and ride it one-handed, so he should tire more quickly. This looks like more than that, though.

“Are you sure?” Steve holds his breath, hoping Bucky won’t be hurt by the press. 

“‘M fine.” After a gulp of water, Bucky mounts his bike again and nudges it back toward the trail.

“Alright,” Steve murmurs. “I guess we carry on...”

And they do, for longer this time. Steve’s not counting the miles or the minutes, but he’s guessing more than a few on both counts. The terrain comes in gentle hills that follow the canal’s locks, which makes the riding fun, but makes him worry for Bucky all the more. 

They’re coasting down a gentle hill when Bucky begins to weave, going back and forth across the path, kicking up grit with the edges of his tires. 

“You ok?” Steve calls, throwing out his legs from the pedals so he can stop his momentum at any time. “Pull off, alright?”

But Bucky doesn’t seem to hear him. He continues to wobble down the stretch of path, seeming to lose more and more control of his ability to steer.

“Pull off!” Steve shouts at him, now standing up on his pedals in an attempt to pass Bucky and cut him off. He does, tosses his bike aside into the grass, and bends his knees to stop Bucky’s handlebars with his chest. 

“I got you,” he grunts at the point of impact, throwing his arms around Bucky’s body.

“Huh...?” Bucky’s helmet slips to the side, and his hair sticks to his sweaty face. He’s barely conscious, and as Steve pulls him off his bike, he goes completely limp in his arms.

“Ok, ok, here we go...” Steve lowers Bucky to the path on his side, then edges down next to him. 

Bucky’s eyelids flutter. His chest heaves, and a stream of vomit trickles down from his mouth. 

“Alright.” Steve pushes Bucky’s hair out of his face, then takes a cool water bottle and holds it to the back of his neck, trying hard not to panic. “I think you just overdid it a little...”

“Hm...” Bucky struggles to spit, then coughs out, “Yeah. ‘M just...tired.”

“How about we stop for a while, then,” Steve says. He moves the bikes off the trail, then sits so he can stroke Bucky’s back.

“”M sorry...” Bucky begins to throw up again, and Steve shifts his face out of the mess.

“No, I’m sorry,” he says. “I let you go too long, and, well...” he trails off. “But I’m going to take care of it. I’m going to take care of you.”

Bucky blinks at him. Then nods. 

Steve nods back. And cracks a small smile.


End file.
